Gold
by reyenaentreri
Summary: Jarlaxle loses his hat in bet to a pretty girl who reminds him of himself. Intended to be a one-shot, but there are definite possibilities for continuation.
1. Gold

Disclaimer: Jarlaxle and Artemis are not my characters, they belong to R.A. Salvatore and Wizards of the Coast. I am not profiting from them in any way. I am merely using them for my amusement, and hopefully that of my readers.

Carahaniel is a my own creation, that I thought up on a whim.

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><p>The nameless elf looked up from her hand of cards with spry smile, "It would appear I'm out of money."<p>

Jarlaxle eyed her thick, shoulder length golden hair, bright emerald eyes, and smooth bronze skin, his eye dipping down noticeably to take in craftily covered curves, he smiled lasciviously, "Then perhaps we can bet on something else," he trailed off, leaving the implications to her imagination.

What did he have to lose? His cards were good. The probability that she had a better hand was almost inconceivable to him.

The sun elf eyed him likewise, she had reservations about the drow, but he certainly did not seem to uphold the reputations of his kin, she licked her lips inviting, "That is certainly an intriguing proposition. Very well. I say we take our money of the table altogether. If you win, I spend the night with you," her spine quivered slightly at the notion of bedding a drow, but she continued, "If I win …" her lips gathered into a mischievous smirk as she considered her next words, "you give me your hat."

Jarlaxle recoiled, genuinely surprised by the elf's terms, he reached up and folded his hand around the hat protectively, "My hat?"

The elf nodded impishly, "Those are my terms. My body, your hat. That's the bet." She shook her head lightly, with practised precision, flipping her hair over her shoulder and revealing just a hint of her slender neckline.

Jarlaxle couldn't help but watch. He knew he was being played, but she was gorgeous, and his hand was nigh unbeatable.

He nodded, "Very well. Your body, my hat."

He held out his hand, she clasped it softly, her warm smooth skin shone strikingly against his charcoal black - a shock ran through Jarlaxle and his breath became shallow. He cleared his throat, using the distraction to regain control of his libido. He held her gaze, smiling as they revealed their cards.

Jarlaxle's eyes widened as he saw her cards - the only hand that could best his, and his eyes flashed, "How? … You cheated."

She snorted, "I don't cheat. I just got lucky. Now, your hat?" She held her hand out expectantly, "Or, drow that you are, do you intend to refuse because the outcome was not in your favor?" She accused with sarcastic sweetness.

Jarlaxle stared at the elf, his mouth opened slightly, a look of sincere loss on his face, "My hat." He whispered - half mournful, half horrified - but still he reached up, slowly, and reluctantly took his hat off, placing it into the hands of the gorgeous elf.

She plucked it from him, twirled it skillfully and dropped it on her head. Jarlaxle's sorrow only heightened as he realized just how perfectly it suited her. He replayed the game in his head, content that she indeed had played fairly. He was stunned to have lost, but he accepted it as gracefully as any drow ever could. He stood, bowed shallowly, and turned to leave.

"Aren't you even going to ask my name, charming drow?" The elf was leaning back in her chair, fancy boots - emerald green with bronze detail - resting brazenly on the table.

He almost chuckled, seeing her in the pose he had so favored in his Bregan D'aerthe office. It made his loss somewhat less humiliating to know it had been to someone so like himself.

"What then, my lady, is the name of she who bested me?" He asked charmingly.

"Carahaniel Birtauré," she removed the hat, sweeping it to the side and bowing her head feigned deference, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Jarlaxle of Bregan D'aerthe. A pleasure I shall never forget."

Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow, "You know of me?"

Carahaniel re-donned the hat and rolled gracefully onto her feet, "I know everything that happens in my city, Jarlaxle. I also take personal interest when a drow deigns to show himself. I'll instruct my contacts to offer any assistance that you require."

Jarlaxle's head dipped shallowly in gratitude, "I hope your assistance is worth it's cost," he waived at his hat.

Green eyes rolled in annoyance, "It will be, drow. It will be."

Jarlaxle shrugged and walked out of the tavern. He didn't see her nod to an elf in the corner of the bar, who hopped up and rolled out the window of the tavern. He did notice a movement in the shadows, but when he turned to investigate he saw nothing suspicious. The drow was no fool, and the emptiness of the shadows unnerved him more than it comforted him. He suddenly realized that his every move was being watched. He hurried back to the inn where Artemis was waiting for him. He climbed the wall, entering the room they shared through the window.

Artemis was sitting up in his bed, reading a scroll the two had liberated the day before. Liberated, wondered the drow suddenly, or were allowed to take? The human nodded slightly to acknowledge the drow's presence, and Jarlaxle closed the shutters over the window in hopes of some privacy. He glanced nervously around the room, the move bringing Artemis out of his thoughtful perusing of the scroll with an eyebrow raised in concern.

Artemis gasped softly, noticing the drow's bald head, "Where is that ungodly hat?"

The sorrow, almost shame, in the drow's eye was genuine when he answered in a whisper, "I lost it in a card game."

Artemis sat up at the surprising turn of events, "You lost your hat?"

A nod was the only answered.

"Why on earth would you bet your hat in the first place?"

Jarlaxle groaned pitifully, "Because the odds of my hand losing were so minuscule, and the prize I'd have gained was well-worth the risk - or so I was manipulated into believing."

Artemis smirked, finding it hard to find sympathy for the person who seemed to manipulate the entire world - including the assassin, "Outcharmed, Jarlaxle? Inconceivable. Ah well, it was a charity though, a kindness to rid you of that loathsome accessory."

Jarlaxle pinned him with a look of pained incredulity, "Why do you mock me?"

Artemis quieted, his smile stolen by the sheer weight of the drow's uncharacteristic emotion, "Apologies. Is there more?"

Jarlaxle nodded, rubbing his bald head thoughtfully, "She claims that this is her city."

"She?" Artemis sighed in frustration at his friend's obvious mistake, "Now I know what prize led you to such a foolish bet."

Jarlaxle snorted, "Indeed. She's exquisite and audacious. Roguishly charming, on top of the world. Reveling in the chaos."

"She sounds like you."

"You think I'm exquisite?" Jarlaxle quickly returned, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

Artemis cleared his throat in embarrassment, "There's significant evidence to suggest that women find you so. I've no idea what they all see in you."

Jarlaxle dismissed the insult, "Regardless, she's good, Artemis. She knew who I was, she knew about Bregan D'aerthe. She's watching us."

Artemis's hand felt onto his dagger, "Are we in danger?"  
>"I don't know," Jarlaxle's bluntness unnerved the assassin, "I feel out of place in this situation. These things usually happen the other way. She offered assistance, should we need it, but that's no comfort. Often have I rendered assistance merely as a way to manipulate my enemy into showing his hand."<p>

"Were you followed?" Artemis asked, suddenly glancing around the room.

Jarlaxle scowled uncertainly, "I didn't see anyone, but I believe so."

Artemis sprung off the bed, shrinking into a defensive crouch he surveyed the closed window and the door, "There's someone here."

Jarlaxle scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous. Unless someone snuck past you while you read, the room is clear."

Artemis shook his head, "The room is clear, but not safe. Check the window."

Jarlaxle rolled his eyes, but pulled a dagger out of his bracer and lengthened it, moving silently to the window. Artemis padded to the door, kneeling behind it. His jeweled dagger was resting lightly in his left hand, Charon's Claw partially drawn from it's sheath. Jarlaxle opening the left shutter, bringing his weapon up to block any possible missile. He looked out, seeing nothing at first. In his peripheral, he saw Artemis open the door, duck around it and survey the corridor. Jarlaxle noticed something resting on the roof of the adjacent building. He peered intently as he heard the door close behind him. He decided the shape was nothing immediately worrisome and turned to face Entreri.

~In the Hall~

Once into the hall, a hand came out of the shadows. Entreri nearly managed to cut it off, but his sword couldn't make a mark on the perfect, bronze skin. The hand closed around his throat, firmly but not painfully, preventing him from speaking. A lithe form pressed up against his back, and Entreri once again tried to plunged his dagger into her.

"Relax, Artemis Entreri, I have no intention of harming you, or your friend," A large coin purse and a brass key dropped into the assassin's lap, "All I want is for you to disappear for an hour or two," her throaty voice told Entreri why, "The scroll is a description of a map, as you no doubt have deciphered. Follow it, with my blessing. You won't be disappointed. By the time you've made it back, I'll be gone."

She let him go, sliding around him. He tried a third time to kill her, but when he failed he gave up, cursing magic users. The door closed, and Entreri sighed, picking up his gifts and walked to the stairs exiting the inn. He pocketed the key, and opened the pouch. He stopped on the stairs, staring at it's contents. Three potions, a small note, and a large, bright emerald. He didn't have jeweler's eye, but he was willing to bet it was worth several thousand gold. He picked up the note and read it as he started walking again. It was a list of the potions - invisibility, non-detection, and spider climbing - and a description indicating which was which. At the bottom of the note was a single sentence, "Use them wisely." A curious smirk found its way onto the assassin's face. Apparently, the drow wasn't the only one in for a good time tonight.

~In the Room~

It wasn't Entreri! Jarlaxle closed the window, turning to face the elf squarely.

The elf smirked, taking the drow's hat in her hands and twirling it, "Good evening."

Jarlaxle looked past her to the closed door, "Entreri" he began but she laughed.

"Your assassin is perfectly fine, I assure you. Flustered perhaps, by the inability of his blade to pierce me, but he will soon forgive me."

"Artemis Entreri does not forgive."

"I've offered him a challenging adventure with the promise of great treasure at the end," she said, "He will forgive me."

Jarlaxle furrowed his brow, "The scroll?"

"Was for his benefit alone. We would never have let you accompany him," Carahaniel enlightened him, leaning on one hip, still playing artfully with the hat, "You have a different adventure ahead of you, if you drop your weapon."

The sword dropped to the ground with resounding clatter, and Jarlaxle took a tentative step forward, "But I lost the game, Carahaniel."

She danced forward playfully, putting the hat back onto Jarlaxle's head as if it were a crown, "The game was never about the cards, handsome drow," she breathed softly, trailing her hand down his face to hold his chin.

Jarlaxle chuckled, replaying the game in his mind, and brought himself inside her reach. Wrapping an arm around the gorgeous elf's frame, he pulled her down ever so slightly, so that she matched his shorter build. He could see the desire, the lust, in her eyes, clouded by a noticeable hesitation.

Jarlaxle leaned in, kissing her ear tenderly, "Relax, dear Cara. I am drow in skin only. I hold no hatred for my surface kin."

Cara smiled, throwing caution aside, throwing her arms around the drow's neck and letting him lead. He kissed her eagerly the moment he felt her fear subside, walking her to his bed and gently laying her upon it. He took in the entirety of her form, he smiled as he stood there, beginning to remove his brazen attire. It is well worth it, he thought to himself, his hand roamed up to his hat and paused. It was less than a second before his hand let it go, and he climbed onto the bed. The hat stayed on.

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><p>I have no basis for this opinion, but I truly do believe that Jarlaxle would be pitiably horrified and mournful if he ever lost that hat, especially if he ever lost it to a pretty girl in a game of chance.<p> 


	2. Gray

So, I intended this to be a one-shot, but I couldn't resist writing the rest of the story that played out in my head. I'm not so great at writing combat, so I tried to focus on Entreri's assassination skills rather than his straight combat skills. Hopefully I did alright.

Once again, Artemis and Jarlaxle are Salvatore's characters, not mine.

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><p>Artemis's head strained as he looked up the sheer cliff. He unrolled the scroll and regarded the last passage again. It alluded to a passage halfway up the climb that acts as an entrance to a dead dragon's lair.<p>

Artemis muttered under his breath, "I hope it stays dead."

He waited until sunset, and noticed the peculiar angle of the light illuminated an elaborate entryway. He quaffed the potion of spider climb and replaced the pouch and scroll on his belt. Walking to the wall, he put a foot and hand on the vertical wall and was mildly disconcerted by the affect of the potion. He looked straight up and lifted off, catching the wall with his opposite foot and leg he clung, surveying the situation. He was in complete control. His pulse was calm, his breath silent and easy, he felt no strain in his muscles from hanging. He half crouched, half crawled his way up the cliff, marveling at the effectiveness of the elf's magic. He stopped just below the entrance, holding silently against the wall. He heard a shuffle and a yawn, and carefully - silently - drew his dagger. He placed the shuffle on the right side of the ledge and carefully scurried across the rock face behind it.

He carefully rose up over the ledge, for a second only, to survey the situation and ducked back down with being seen. There were two human guards, wearing symbols of Meiliki, but they were bored. The one one the far side of the ledge was staring out over the land towards the city, and the one nearest him was leaning against the rock wall a foot behind the ledge, his eyes closed. Artemis Entreri grinned. A lesser man would have used the invisibility potion right there, but Entreri was no lesser man. He rolled over the ledge without a sound, flicking his wrist, his dagger flying into the vocal chords of the far guard. The one nearest noticed the flash and straightened. A crimson sword plunged into his chest, and a hand followed, jabbing his throat to prevent a dying scream. Entreri pulled out his sword and carefully guided the corpse silently to the ground. He stalked over to the remaining guard - still alive despite his wound - and grabbed the hilt of his jeweled dagger. A soft stream of energy flowed through the dagger from his victim into him, and the human opened his mouth in a silent scream as he felt his life being drained. Entreri ended it by rotating the dagger and with a twitch sent his dagger up. The magic dagger, with the assassin's strength behind it, easily slashed through the man's skull. He knelt down with the body as it fell, closing his hand around the unicorn symbol and snapping the chain.

_What are Meiliki's worshippers doing guarding this cave, and why was I sent after them?_ Artemis shrugged, his only hesitance was the memory of purple eyes staring lifeless up at him as he tried to stem the tide of blood. His blood chilled as the memory lingered and he dropped the carved mithril unicorn.

The clatter jolted him, and he inwardly raged that the drow still had such an effect on him. The potion was still affecting him, and he decided to climb up the wall. He climbed onto the ceiling, hanging upside down, and once he adjusted to the angle, he crawled down the lightless corridor. He willed Claw to emit it's strange light that allowed him to see perfectly in the gloom without revealing him to prying eyes. He reached a large circular chamber, about 100 ft in diameter and 30 ft high. The room was dimly lit by a raised dais in the center, upon which burned a brazier. The dull orange glow of burning coal left the upper reaches of the room completely black. The brazier was surrounded by 5 humanoids wearing dark green robes that concealed every feature. Entreri paused on the ceiling above them to hear their conversation.

"She knows we're here, Keshor and she knows our purpose," rasped a female voice, edged with fear and frustration.

Another - Keshor apparently - replied with an arrogant tone that made Entreri want to kill him right there, "It doesn't matter, Avara. Our plans are underway and even she cannot stop us."

"You underestimate her," spat another man sourly, "She practically owns that city."

The first voice, Avara, spoke, "She does own the city, in every way except name. I think we should delay our plans or modify them until she no longer suspects us."

Another woman spoke, "No! To delay would cause our followers to lose faith that we follow Meiliki's will. We need to act while we can still bring the full power of divine intervention to bear."

Avara threw up her hands in exasperation, "Meiliki be damned. Carahaniel will not let us destroy her city. She will throw everything she has at us."

The last person, who had not yet spoken, turned away from the group, "Careful now, Avara. Our lord would not be pleased to have our ruse exposed by such careless talk. I've heard your council, but I say we continue. The elf is dangerous, but delay will only make her more so. Go back to the city, gather the faithful and carry out the plan."

Avara slumped over, Keshor sneering contemptuously, "Yes, sir. I will do as the lord commands."

Entreri had heard enough. He waited for the leader to leave, and dropped, landing on the raised dais, dagger down the neck of Keshor. Claw ripped through the unnamed woman, trailing ash as the assassin tore it out as he rolled to avoid injury from the fall. Avara's eyes were wide as her comrades bodies crumpled to the floor. Entreri straightened from the roll, releasing the dagger from his left hand. It flew with precision into the back of her fleeing co-conspirator.

Entreri met her gaze, his glare promising death, but did not advance on the terrified cultist, "Calm down and tell me what you're planning?"

"Will you let me live?"

Entreri walked to retrieve his dagger, "What are you planning?

Avara shuffled nervously, "Let me live, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Entreri closed the distance between them, his glare silencing the scream as it formed, and pricked her once with his dagger, "What are you planning?" he growled a third time, drawing quickly on the dagger's vampiric ability.

Avara felt her life draining away, the horror clear on her face, she whispered, "We're trying to destroy the city and make the forest overgrow the area."

He stopped the torture, "Why?"

"This forest used to be one of Mieliki's groves, guarded by a unicorn long ago. When the settler's began to destroy the forest to build their city, the unicorn disappeared. We want to bring it back."

"You do not serve Meiliki," the assassin glowered, don't lie to me written clearly.

Avara reeled, "No, we don't. I don't know what my master wants with the unicorn, but it is not for Meiliki's glory."

"You're using the faith of your followers - who truly believe to follow Meiliki's will - to orchestrate this farce?"

Avara nodded, "Yes."

"One more thing," Entreri removed the dagger from Avara's arm, "And if you answer it satisfactorily I will indeed spare you."

"What?"

"Tell me everything you know about the elf who sent me here."

Avara blanched, "Cara sent you? Then she really is acting against us," she cursed silently, "I told them."

"Tell me about her," Entreri flashed his dagger closer to her.

"She's a sun elf - Ar-tel-quessir she calls them. No one knows for sure, but the story goes she was sold to a local landlord by slavers. She was used - raped and beaten - for years. She fought, but wasn't strong enough. She ran, but he always hired someone who found her and returned her. After over a decade of torment, something snapped and she killed him. Smashed his nose into his brain, stole weapons from his armory, and ran out into the wilderness."

Entreri was watching the hall where their leader had exited by, "And then?"

"No one knows really. The authorities searched for her, but they never found her. Those that did never came back to tell of it," Avara's voice was still nervous, but even and quiet, "No one heard from her for 50 years and then she just walked back into the town. Intelligent, full of charm, and carrying enough enchanted trinkets to make a dragon proud. She walked boldly through the streets and ghosted through the shadows, buying slaves and freeing them, training them to work for her. Giving the impoverished and indentured a chance to raise their lot in the world. She formed alliances with small merchants and businesses, and worked her way up. Now she has people in every corner of the city. People either work for her, or desperately try to stay out of her way. Even the local lord, a viscount with a lot of influence in the kingdom, bends to her will. He has outlawed sexual slavery and made the terms of indentured servitude much less vague. It makes it easier for people to work their way out of debt. The common people consider her their champion - though she doesn't much care for them. She has a deep, personal hatred for slavery but aside from that all her goals revolve around maintaining her power and profit."

Entreri considered the tale, "Is she a danger to me?"

Avara shrugged, "She sent you in here alone. She must have known what you are capable of. I doubt she would risk such a confrontation. I would be careful of your conduct though. She has a friend, a wizard by the name of Rairal who reckons himself her guardian. He's only been in the city a few years, but he quickly made himself her second in command. He's the one who enchants her if she expects conflict, makes her potions, and gathers information from anywhere her scouts cannot enter. If he feels you threaten her, he'll come after you."

Entreri took a few steps away from her, "You've earned your life, for now." The warning was clear, he exited the chamber following the conspirator's leader.

Avara sank to her knees, sighing in relief as he faded from view. She stared at the three dead cultists and knew if she warned her master that she would follow them. She didn't move.

Entreri stayed on the ground, not trusting the duration of the potion. He stalked slowly, deliberately down the corridor, quickly passing from shadow to shadow. A brightly lit chamber slowly came into view, and Entreri took out the invisibility potion. There was a faint _'pop'_ as he removed the stopper and he threw back the liquid - grimacing at it's foul taste. He kept walking, taking out the other potion, not knowing if he would need it.

When he entered the brightly lit chamber, it took a considerable effort not to gasp in awe at the mountains of treasure, atop which lay an enormous partially decayed corpse of a gold dragon. He would have expected the stench of rotten flesh, but instead was nearly overwhelmed by the saffron scent that saturated the air. He breathed steadily, silently, surveying the room further. He noticed several cultists preparing some sort of ritual around the dragon's corpse. They wore the same robes at the others, but held a different symbol - one he didn't recognize. He walked past them, out the other side of the large chamber, not wanting to disrupt the potion by initiating combat. He passed elaborately crafted kitchens, banquet halls, guest rooms, and two rooms that were magically sealed. He debated trying to open them, but kept moving, wanting to get to the back of the lair. He walked for minutes, passing rooms that suggested this dragon had once liked to have company - not as surprising for Gold dragon as it would be for it's chromatic cousins. At last he came across a gold archway, carved with curves and angular lines. It had no distinct shape, and yet it reminded him of the brilliant magnificence of the dead beast in the hoard room. He inspected it, and instinctively felt as though it were enchanted somehow. He quaffed the last remaining potion and crossed the thresh-hold. The room beyond - hidden from view by the shielding magic of the arch - was almost as large as chamber in which its owners body lay, and it was blistering hot! The assassin could feel the sweat beginning to form and his mouth was drying out. The great, ever-burning fires before him held a heat greater than he had ever felt - greater even than the breath of the might red he had once faced. It was still a good 100 ft in front of him, so he was in no real danger, but his discomfort was mounting. He noticed another cultist, wearing the unknown symbol, but with a mithral carved unicorn hanging partway out of his pocket.

_He must be their leader,_ Entreri moved towards the man, drawing his dagger carefully, _Should I kill him or question him? What exactly did the elf want from me?_

The man was speaking to himself, whispering frustratedly, "But what to do with the children? Do we turn them now or wait for them to grow? I've never encountered an intact clutch before. What to do?"

Entreri's dagger twitched as he walked boldly towards the man, fully trusting in the magic of the invisibility potion and in his own skill should the magic fail. When he was within arms reach, he plunged his dagger into the man's chest. Entreri savored the shock and terror in the man's eyes when he felt the blade in his heart and saw the assassin reappear.

"No," he gasped in denial with his last breath, "Aurinthanal must rise! You cannot-"

Entreri never found out what he could not do, he pulled out his dagger and thrust it into the man's neck.

He growled softly as the corpse collapsed, "That was too easy, elf. What's your game?"

He turned and walked out, turning around before he passed the arch. Even he had to admit that the sight of a Gold Dragon's clutch was impressive.

He closed his eyes, "I can't say I believe you any more worthy than human gods and goddesses, Bahamut. But if you're worth anything at all, please protect this place."

He walked through the portal without looking back, annoyed at himself for offering the foolish prayer. The last thing he needed was to draw the attention of a god. He ran back through the corridor to the two locked doors, inspecting them carefully while keeping a look out for more cultists. He wanted to know what had been so carefully sealed away, and whether it was the dragon or the humans that did the sealing. Besides, he couldn't escape the nagging feeling that all of this had been far too easy.


	3. Gold (Future Continuations)

Hello Reader,

For the time being, I have ceased all publishing on this site. It is nothing against the site. It served me well for a very long time and I continue to use it to browse/read fic. However, I have decided that publishing my fanfiction and original fiction on multiple sites: FanFiction and Fiction press separately, LiveJournal for certain fandoms, Tumblr for others, etc is not viable at the moment. I have consolidated my work into one place and merely provide links to it elsewhere.

There are links to my blog, and to this story specifically, on my author profile.

I am sorry for any inconvenience, but I just don't have the time and patience to keep active on multiple sites (at least for now).

Thank you for your time,

Reyena


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